


Butter Time

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Series: Butter [11]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Bacon butties, Baz is a genius, But they are both morons as well, Butter as an appetizer, Butter is always the way to go, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Dramatic Simon Snow, Dramatic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Getting Together, Gift Fic, Grand Gesture, Holding Hands, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Oblivious Simon Snow, Oblivious Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Prompt Fic, Simon too, SnowBaz, Tea, They are both hopeless but they get there, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: Set Watford 8th year. Baz and Simon are both oblivious and dramatic.They finally get to experience the awkwardness of flirting.Part 11 ofButter SeriesCOC 2020 Day 27, DEC 21: Snowstorm.Inappropriate humour.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Niall, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Butter [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030383
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	Butter Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jyoti96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jyoti96/gifts).



> Dear reader, I hope you will enjoy this silly ficlet. Part 11 of **[Butter](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030383) Series**.💙  
>   
>  **Jyoti** , this is for you. 🥺🥺🥺 I hope you will like it. 💙💙💙
> 
> * * *
> 
> As always so many thanks and love to my amazing friends and betas Blue ([mybluebucketofsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow)), [shushu_yaoi_lj (llamapyjamas)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shushu_yaoi_lj/pseuds/shushu_yaoi_lj) and [Theawkwardbibliophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawkwardbibliophile/works).  
>   
> Thank you for all the help and support with this COC and everything I write and for being awesome friends. 💙
> 
> * * *

# BAZ

I carefully turn the doorknob and open the door to our room, trying not to drop my surprise for Simon. 

This is it. This is the moment of truth. I can be brave, I'm brilliant after all. Brilliant and insecure, unfortunately.

Regardless, I've been over this a thousand times. Niall’s pep talk helped. Bunce’s too.

“Simon—,” I start and hold my breath when he turns around, or well almost jumps. 

Have I startled him?

His hands are at his sides throbbing nervously against his thighs. 

I try not to think about what I want to do with his thighs or about the fact that his legs are covered with freckles and moles and how I wish nothing else than to map his whole body with my lips. 

_Not now, Basilton._

I’m holding the tray with bacon butties drenched in butter, and a cup of steaming tea with three tablespoons of butter in it. 

I’ve also cut some cold butter in pieces and strategically placed it in a heart shape on a small plate. As an appetiser.

“Baz, you’re here already,” he shrieks and then goes scarlet. “I wanted to talk to you.”

He did? 

“About what?” I ask, walking towards the table and placing the tray on top. 

Maybe this isn’t a good time after all. I suddenly feel a storm raging inside my heart. A Snow Storm, that is. 

“About… Wait…” he pauses and stares me down, wide-eyed, “did you just call me by my first name?”

I suppose this is the moment of truth.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” I confess this without making it sound like a sin. 

Even though at times that is how I imagined it. Calling him _Simon_ , getting my heart broken into ions, unrepairable, _forever_.

His eyes are locked on mine and I take a deep, hopefully, self-reassuring breath.

“Simon,” I say his name again because I just might be more brave than I initially thought. ”I brought you, I mean _us_ , bacon butties and tea.”

He doesn’t even glance towards the tray, his eyes fully focused on me.

“Why?” he asks, his hand reaches for his curls and he takes a fistful of them, pulling mercilessly. 

Is he disappointed? Does he not love butter? Nonsense, Simon Snow would eat butter with a spoon if he could. (He’s used to starvation.)

When he swallows, his long neck makes a whole show of it. I am getting weak at my knees just from that. Wanting to kiss him there, wanting to kiss him _everywhere_.

At the same time, I am utterly unsure about his intentions and wants.

“I thought we could have our own afternoon tea, just the two of us,” I speak despite the terror of rejection creeping up my spine. “If you want to, that is.”

He’s still looking at me, not saying anything. I swallow nervously, butterflies dying out in my stomach.

“There’s butter,” I finally add, because there’s nothing else to say there. If he decides to reject me, he at least can still eat what I brought. 

I can leave the room for the night to give him privacy. I will _need_ to do that if he’s rejecting me.

“Baz,” he mumbles, blinking his eyelashes at me, and bites on the tender flesh of his bottom lip. I try not to blush or to swoon. “Is this… Are you asking me out?”

Alright, I can do this. I take another deep breath. Will he be horrified? Have I misunderstood everything? Am I the biggest moron in Britain?

“Yes, that is exactly what I am doing,” I tell him without flinching or averting my eyes. I will go down in style. (Not going down on him apparently, unfortunately.)

For snakes’ sake, why did I ever listen to Niall and his ‘You have so much to offer, Baz’. It seems there’s nothing I have that Simon Snow wants.

My undead heart contracts from pain and sorrow. I have in fact nothing to offer. (I won't cry.)

He looks confused for a moment, glancing in the direction of the ensuite before focusing his gaze back on me.

“Well. The thing is. I mean… I was planning on asking you out today,” he says and I am left speechless.

He doesn’t look mental. Am _I_ mental? 

What is happening here?

His smile is so genuine that I make a double take, ready to combust from joy. 

Is that even possible? The asking me out part, not the combusting part. (I am not an imbecile.)

“You were?” I ask in disbelief. 

He never lies, not really. It must be true. 

Unless this is hell on earth. I thought I was already in one…

“Yeah, I was learning all the tricks at the rom-coms Penny and I went to,” he mumbles and his flush has now spread to his neck and his chest (what I can see, that is). “I wanted to do a grand gesture. So I took all my butter from today and put in your hair mousse.”

Simon loves butter more than anything else. The fact that he did that for me (even though I am not entirely sure I want to put it in my hair, not unless it will make him want to _eat_ me in some manner), I am beyond ecstatic over this development.

I think this means that Simon Snow is in love with me.

That is the only explanation unless I misheard somehow.

Nevertheless, I can not stop grinning like a maniac. 

The smile has appeared on my lips and I can not force it back. Possibly I should not. Simon smiles too.

His hand drops from his curls and he reaches for me, stepping closer. I take it _greedily_ , relishing in his warmth.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he says, his hand squeezes mine. 

Am I in heaven? Does gay god exist after all?

“So did I,” I confess and brush his fingers with mine.

We’re standing so close, breathing the same air and all I want is to kiss him. I lick my lips and watch his eyes lock onto them. 

“Can I maybe kiss you now or do we need to go on a date first?” he asks and somehow he’s even closer than before. 

“I suppose this is a date already, with tea and food and even a gift.”

He grins and he’s beautiful — happy and flushed. I lean in and gently brush his curls off his forehead.

There’s a mole on his cheek that I’ve wanted to kiss since I was 12. I do.

If anything, Simon’s smile is even wider now. I keep smiling too, even though he sees me. I can hear his heart thumping fast and uneven and if my heart could skip a beat it would.

When I pull away a bit, unsure of what to do next, he follows after me. 

His lips a breath away from mine.

“Simon,” I whisper.

And then _he_ kisses _me_.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 💙


End file.
